Sometime Around Midnight
by specter17
Summary: Harvey and Mike's late-night escapades and general bromantic endeavors.
1. Chapter 1 (Part 1)

**Right now it doesn't have a real plot, more like a linked series of related one-shots. Also stole the highlighter thing from Cuppa-Char :) Enjoy!**

Harvey unceremoniously dumped a towering pile of briefs in front of Mike. "Get it done before 9AM tomorrow," he said, turning to leave. Mike took in the size of the pile. The precariously stacked papers were threatening to topple over. He dropped his head onto his arms. "Screw you, Harvey," he moaned into the sleeve of his unfortunately cheap suit. Harvey stopped and turned back. "What did you just say?" he asked, cocking his head.

"Oh fuck." Mike silently fired off a very quick prayer for his life. "Nothing.

"Do I need to take the highlighters again?" Harvey asked. Mike's hand shot protectively towards the small bundle of colorful markers. This movement did not escape Harvey's notice. "Good," he smirked. Alternating sips of Red Bull and lukewarm coffee, Mike sighed and pulled the files toward him. Soon enough, his knee was bouncing uncontrollably to the beat of the music emanating from his ear buds. The office was quickly clearing out as the associates left for the night, leaving Mike in his own oblivious bubble.

Grinning as he finished the last page, he gathered up the papers and headed rather unsteadily towards Harvey's office. Donna took in his disheveled appearance and glassy stare with a raised eyebrow. "Going somewhere, Mike?" she asked. Mike gave a small start at her voice. "Donna! Hey! What's up? Didn't see you there. Wow, that dress looks really good on you. Red is like, totally your color you should wear it more often likemaybeeveryFridayorsometh ing –"

Donna cut off his overcaffeinated rambling with a rueful shake of her head and gestured towards Harvey's door. She snickered as Mike enthusiastically tried and failed to push the door open, forgetting he had to pull. She watched in amusement for a few minutes, but after the fourth failed attempt she took pity. "Mike, you pull, remember?" Donna called over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I totally knew that," he scoffed unconvincingly. Harvey looked up at him skeptically as Mike barged in and dumped the pile of briefs proudly on top of Harvey's desk. "Done!" he crowed, offering his fist, which Harvey ignored. "Kid, I said tomorrow morning, not tonight," he said, grudgingly impressed.

"YeahbutHarveyyouknowonceIget intheflowofthingsIhavetokeep goinguntil –"

"How much coffee have you had?" Harvey asked suspiciously. "You know what, don't answer that," he answered himself wearily as Mike opened his mouth, holding up his hand as if to prevent more verbal vomit. As if that were possible. "Okay, so maybe you aren't the worst lawyer in the history of everything," he added as he looked though Mike's work. Mike let out a whoop and again offered his fist. "C'mon, Harvey," he wheedled, his bright blue eyes reminding Harvey once again of an overgrown puppy. "Put her up there!" Harvey took a quick peek behind Mike to check that the office was indeed deserted before surreptitiously fist-bumping his associate. "Yeah! That's what I'm talking about," Mike said, grinning and actually twirling around in delight as he fist pumped the air.

"Excuse me, I thought I hired an actual associate instead of a Golden Retriever," Harvey said snarkily. He tossed a crumpled ball of paper towards the corner. "Go fetch." Mike scowled at the puppy insult but actually went and picked up the ball of paper, dunking it into the trash. "He shoots, he scores!" Mike shouted as Harvey leaned back and ran a hand through his hair in exhaustion. Goddamn paperwork was enough without an overexcited puppy bouncing around his office.

"Sorry to interrupt playtime, but I'm leaving," Donna said over the intercom. Both men looked up to see her gathering her things and buttoning her Donna Karan coat. "And you can't do anything without me, so you're leaving too," she said pointedly.

They looked at each other. Point taken. Mike dashed to his cubicle to cram his stuff into his messenger bag before running to catch up with Harvey at the elevator. "Hey Harvey we should go get a drink!" he exclaimed, eyes lighting up with his brilliant idea. Harvey looked at him. "You have your helmet on backwards," he pointed out as Mike hastily turned it around to face the right way. "Are you even of legal drinking age?" Mike rolled his eyes. "At least I don't go around thinking I'm Don Draper."

"Good, 'cause you're not," Harvey shot back as they stepped into the elevator. He straightened the lapel of his dark, slim-fit Tom Ford suit. "You wish you could pull off 3-piece-suits," he added smugly.

Mike snorted. "Dude, skinny ties are _in_."

"Don't ever call me 'dude.'"

"Right," Mike said, looking somewhat abashed. They stepped out of Pearson Hardman, where they were immediately met with a downpour of rain. "Come on," Mike groaned, holding his messenger bag above his head. Harvey had somehow already managed to pull out a sleek black umbrella. Mike scooted closer as Harvey shot him a dirty look. "Get your own umbrella." He quickly made his way to the car where Ray was waiting, smoothly pulling down the umbrella and sliding into the back seat. He turned around in shock as Mike clambered in after him. "What are you _doing_?"

"Harvey, it's raining!"

"Yes, I can see that," Harvey said patronizingly. He gave Mike a look as if to say _So? _

"So please tell me you're not going to make me go back out there and bike in this weather when you have a big, warm, and did I say big? car right here!" He patted the leather seats to further make his point.

"Uh, in New York City, where we live, there are these yellow cars called _taxis_ that will take you places." Harvey regretted saying it as soon as the words left his mouth as Mike hung his head sadly and made to open the car door. He bore a striking resemblance to a kicked puppy.

"For God's sake," Harvey said, rolling his eyes and grabbing the bag of Mike's jacket so that his head flung back and he nearly fell onto Harvey's lap. "This is only so I don't have to replace you after you crash into a car, you know that right?"

"Um, why are we assuming it would be _my_ fault if I died?" Mike asked petulantly though not being able to keep the happy tone out of his voice. "Factoring in my age –"

"-which would be 5," Harvey muttered as Mike plowed on.

"-and experience, the probability of a car hitting me during a time of heavy precipitation is 1 in 27,348 as opposed to me running into a car, which is 1 in 18,234."

"You left out the fact that you're a clumsy idiot," Harvey pointed out. Mike let out a string of sarcastic laughter. "Hilarious. Ever consider a stint on Seinfeld?"

"Many times."

"You're so funny."

"Jealous?"

Silence ensued as Mike stared out the window and Harvey checked his iPhone, scrolling through countless emails. "Where are we going?" Mike asked, his nose pressed against the glass. New York City glittered wetly through the drizzle.

"Don't fog up my windows with hot-dog breath," Harvey warned as he pocketed his phone. He caught Ray's eye in the rearview mirror. "_I'm_ going out," he informed Mike. "Ray is taking you home. It's past bedtime for puppies."

"Harvey!" Mike protested, realizing immediately that his voice sounded dangerously close to a whine. "Let me come. Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

Mike was silent for a moment. Harvey looked over to see the kid deep in thought and began to panic slightly as the younger man's lips turned up in a frighteningly Harvey Specter-ish smile. "We're in midtown Manhattan right now, and I happen to live in Williamsburg. Now, I'm not sure if you've ever deigned to visit any of the boroughs, but they're a decent distance away, even in a car with a driver. Considering it's Friday night with a higher-than-average amount of traffic, it would waste _your _time to go all the way to Williamsburg just to drop me off, especially since I'm tired and may or may not mix up directions to my place. _Or, _you could just take me with you." Mike sat back in his seat and laced his fingers, triumphant in his argument.

"Thank you, Counselor, " Harvey said dryly. Goddamnit, he thought, drumming his fingers impatiently. Kid had a point, albeit an annoying one. "Alright, _fine_."

"Really?" Mike asked eagerly. Harvey nodded with a grimace, raking a hand through his hair. God. What had he gotten himself into?

**Hope you guys like it! I know it's short so far, the next few chapters will definitely longer and more complete - this one is just to set everything up. Please review and let me know what you think, suggestions/requests welcome!**


	2. Chapter 1 (Part 2)

**This is a continuation of Chapter 1 :) Thank you for the review and follows!**

Ray pulled up in front of a glamorous, swanky bar. Mike rolled his eyes. "You _would_ go to a fancy hotel bar. I bet the drinks cost, like, $18 a pop here." Harvey turned innocent eyes on him. "I'm sorry, did you want to order a Cosmo? They even come with little umbrellas." Mike scowled. Even he knew it wasn't quite that manly to drink a pink cocktail that came with an accessory. "It was _one_ time, okay? They taste good." His eyes lit up as another thought occurred to him. "Hey, can I be your wingman tonight?" he asked excitedly.

"I don't need a wingman. You wouldn't even know how to be a wingman."

"Oh c'mon," Mike pleaded. "I'm a good wingman! We could be Batman and Robin Hood. Or 007 and 006. Or -"

"Stop trying to _name_ us. And you're hardly going to pick up girls tonight, don't you already have more than enough?" Mike furrowed his brow in confusion. "Your paralegal friend. Your blonde friend," Harvey began, ticking off his fingers. "And you practically slobbered over Donna today." Mike winced. "Donna doesn't count."

"I'm telling Donna you said that."

Mike sulked as they settled onto the leather barstools. Harvey quirked an eyebrow as he looked at his associate. "Pouting? Very mature."

"I'm not pouting," Mike retorted. "I'm thinking."

"Careful, don't hurt yourself."

"Uh, who has the eidetic memory?"

Harvey let this last comment slide as the bartender set his drink in front of him atop an expertly folded cocktail napkin. "How very Bond of you," Mike quipped as Harvey took a sip of his martini. When Harvey was briefly occupied by the statuesque blonde on his right, Mike quickly leaned over the counter. "A martini. Shaken, not stirred," he ordered, thinking himself extremely suave. He frowned at the woman who was now taking up all of Harvey's attention. "Harvey?" The older man ignored him. "Here, kid," the bartender said as he set the martini down. Harvey finally looked over and smirked. "Are you copying me?"

"I happen to love martinis," Mike replied haughtily, taking a huge sip and trying not to choke on the strong taste of gin. Harvey snorted.

"Aw!" An older woman passing by squealed, swinging her oversized handbag and nearly hitting the blonde next to Harvey. "Is this your son?" she asked Harvey, indicating towards their matching drinks. Mike quickly sat up, not realizing until then he had been subtly copying Harvey's posture as Harvey pushed his martini away. "No," they answered quickly at the same time. This didn't help their case. The woman, who either didn't hear them or was too drunk to process their words lurched towards Mike and pinched his cheeks with an overly perfumed hand. "How adorable!" Mike and Harvey looked equally horrified. The blonde Harvey had been flirting with recoiled. "You have a son?" she asked, wrinkling her nose and getting up to leave.

"He's not my –" the woman had already left. Harvey sighed. "Nice going," he said sarcastically. "How was that my fault?" Mike yelped. He paused, then grinned, happy he once again had Harvey's attention. "Besides, you're hardly setting a good example. _Dad_."

"Call me that again and I will strangle you with that stupid skinny tie," Harvey answered, though his voice lacked any real anger. They settled back into silence as they finished their drinks. "Hey!" Mike said suddenly, slapping the table with inspiration. "I know a place we could go!" Harvey sighed. "What makes you think that a) I want to leave and b) I would want to go with you?" Mike looked slightly hurt by this. "Fine!" Harvey acquiesced. He looked around. "It's only because everyone in this place now thinks we're father and son," he muttered. He slipped his black AmEx to the bartender, ignoring Mike's protests. "I'm getting the next one," Mike insisted as they left. Harvey was about to ask why exactly he assumed there was a "next one," before remembering he'd already agreed to accompany Mike to whatever godforsaken place he chose. _Damn it._ He was only going because he'd already promised the kid. Not because he wanted to or anything. Obviously, Harvey reasoned with himself.

"To the East Village, Ray!" Mike merrily directed the driver. "I know a really good place," he assured Harvey, noticing his dubious expression. He leaned forward and whispered the address in Ray's ear. Harvey rolled his eyes at the juvenile behavior. "What are we, in middle school?" he asked grumpily. "Trust me, you'll love it," Mike answered happily. The car stopped at a hole-in-the-wall place. Harvey peered at it. "Is this _safe?"_ It was Mike's turn to roll his eyes. "Just because it's not some ritzy restaurant." He discarded his blazer on the backseat. "Loosen up, _D_-" Mike stopped talking as he saw Harvey's expression and silently scrambled out of the car and into the tiny bar. "Mikey!" the owner greeted him warmly. "Who's the suit?" he asked curiously, gesturing towards the older man. "Antonio, this is Harvey," Mike introduced. The portly man chortled. "Oh, so _this_ is Harvey," he said grinning before disappearing into the back. "Joe!" he called over his shoulder to the bartender. "Get a couple of beers for my friends here."

Harvey picked up on the emphasis on "this." "What does he mean, _this_ is Harvey?" he asked his associate. Mike mumbled something unintelligible as his neck turned red. "Do you talk about me?" Harvey pressed, slightly surprised and somewhat flattered. "No," Mike returned immediately. The older man quirked an eyebrow. "Then how does Antonio know who I am?"

"Shut up. Stop imagining things," Mike snapped before shoving a beer at Harvey in an effort to distract him. He felt the older man's gaze boring into him as he resolutely swallowed a mouthful of cold beer. "I talk about work sometimes, okay?" Mike relented, ignoring Harvey's grin. "I guess I must've mentioned my hard-ass boss a few times."

They finished off their beers, along with a second and third bottle each before Mike decided it was time for shots. Harvey made half-hearted attempt to leave but immediately abandoned the pretense as Mike made a passing reference to his fatherly qualities.

"Harveyyyyyy. Harrrrrrveyyy." Mike chuckled, trying to roll his 'r's. "Haha. Harvey's a cool name," he declared as the senior partner nodded in agreement, slumping over in laughter. The bartender eyed them doubtfully. "Rrrrrosss," Harvey said, rolling his 'r's perfectly. "Hey, your name has an 'r' in it too!" he pointed out as if in the midst of a major epiphany. Mike found this hilarious. Joe made a snap decision and whisked their glasses away from the two idiots sat in front of him. "Hey," Mike said confusedly a full 5 minutes after the glasses disappeared. "Where'd our glasses go?" he asked, craning his neck. "Joe!" he focused on the scruffy bartender. "Tell Harvey to stop hiding the glasses," he said with a frown. Harvey raised his hands in mock indignation. "I didn't do anything. Maybe Joe thinks you've had a tad too much to drink."

"What?" Mike asked huffily. "I'm not a lightweight," he slurred, tipping his head onto Harvey's shoulder. Harvey stared at it for a moment before tossing it off. "Woah!" Mike exclaimed as he jolted straight. "Hey, Joe, you've got…wow, you've got 3 eyes!" Harvey took the cue from Joe's unamused face. "C'mon, kid," Harvey said, managing to heave the lanky boy to his feet. "Time to go."

"No…Harvey, I'm thirsty!" Mike insisted.

"I doubt that," Harvey said firmly. His slightly larger frame was clearly more tolerant to the alcohol they'd imbibed tonight. He shoved Mike into the back of the car. "Take us home, Ray," he instructed tiredly as Mike's head lolled once again onto his shoulder. "'M so tired, Harvey," Mike muttered, flopping his long limbs onto Harvey, who tried unsuccessfully to untangle himself. At one point during the car ride, Mike woke up and flailed around, asking if "the aliens were here yet." Harvey had stared at him for a minute before awkwardly answering the earnest pair of blue eyes. "Erm…no aliens right now, Mike." Seemingly comforted by this, Mike sank back into sleep. Harvey's eyes were quite heavy as well, and he felt himself nodding off, lulled by the rhythm of the car and pattering rain.

Ray pulled up in front of Harvey's apartment building and glanced uncertainly at his sleeping charges in the backseat. He cleared his throat. "Er…sir? Harvey?" Harvey's eyelids fluttered open. "Right," he answered, trying to pretend he hadn't somehow allowed Mike's legs to be sprawled over his lap. "Wake up, kid," he said, nudging the younger man with his briefcase. The associate didn't stir. He briefly considered carrying him into the building, before immediately dismissing the ridiculous idea. Harvey bent down and pulled out the spare water bottle he always kept in the car door. Unscrewing it, he promptly emptied the contents onto Mike's head. Mike shot up, gasping. "Wha-? The can-opener!" He blinked as water droplets ran down his face. Harvey snickered. "Fuck," he moaned rubbing his face and eventually managing to tumble out of the car. "Hey," he said, noticing his whereabouts for the first time. "This isn't Williamsburg."

Harvey had already strode a few paces ahead, and Mike jogged to catch up, wincing as his surroundings spun. He followed Harvey into the elevator. Harvey pushed the button labeled PH. "Do I get to stay with you tonight?" Mike asked, his hand straying towards the elevator buttons. Harvey slapped it away before the kid could manage to do something stupid like press all of them, thus forcing them to stop on every single floor. "No, I'm making you sleep in the hallway," Harvey answered sarcastically. Mike, in his inebriated state, wasn't sure if Harvey' was joking or not. Hell, if he hadn't been drunk, he probably still wouldn't have been able to tell, Mike figured. The older man glanced at Mike's uncertain face and sighed. "Just don't touch anything," he warned as he unlocked the door to his apartment. Mike's eyes widened at the sleek furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows. He flopped himself onto the long, black leather couch. "This is so cool!" His face took on a slightly green pallor at all the movement. Harvey quickly grabbed a bucket from underneath the sink and shoved it under Mike's face before the kid ruined his couch. Sure enough, Mike retched no fewer than twenty seconds later, managing to contain it within the bucket. Harvey quickly changed into a pair of black drawstring pants and navy tee, tossing a bundle of grey sweatpants and Harvard hoodie at Mike, who'd already decided to pass out and was snoring loudly. Harvey stood there for a moment before quickly tugging off Mike's shoes. He just didn't want his couch to get dirty. It'd be a pain in the ass to clean the leather, after all. And he'd better take his tie off too, in case the kid strangled himself by accident in the middle of the night. Because it would be annoying to find another associate who would most likely be a useless Harvard douche. Not that he cared or anything.

"Hey Harvey?" Mike asked sleepily. Harvey turned back. "What, kid?" he asked softly.

"Thanks." Harvey allowed himself a brief smile before collapsing into his own bed, leaving Mike to babble to himself about "the best boss ever" and "I wanna be like you someday."

**I hope you all liked it, please review! x**


	3. Chapter 2

**Thank you all so much for the feedback, I love you guys! This chapter is partly modeled after the webisode "Litt Up" (insanely hilarious, Louis is one of the best love/hate characters ever). Also, if I write anything relating to actual law, it's probably going to be wrong and not make actual sense. **

Harvey crumpled up a sheet of paper in frustration. "Get out," he growled. Gregory hovered uncertainly. "But sir – "

"_Now_." Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled, trying not to lose his temper. The imbecile had forgotten to file a patent that he had asked for the _previous _day. Mike would have had it done within an hour. And the rest of Gregory's work was mediocre at best. Harvey looked over to the associates' cubicles. Mike was sitting at his desk where he had been parked for the past 10 hours, miserably highlighting his way through a massive mound of paperwork. When he saw Harvey, he widened his eyes in a silent plea for rescue. The message was clear: _Harvey I'm dying please come rescue me I like you better than Louis! _Though Harvey pretended not to see, he had made up his mind. He strode over to Louis' office.

* * *

Louis held the Dictaphone up to his mouth. "Goal number one: Make senior partner."

"Goal number two: make senior partner."

"Goal number three: take up weekly ballet classes." He experimentally pointed his toes inside his Italian loafer.

"Goal number four: invent something. Like maybe a personalized branding iron." Louis paused to think about this, imagining a perfectly seasoned steak with the initials L.L. emblazoned on it. Or Property of Louis Litt, Senior Partner. "Maybe that's a bit long."

"Goal number five: find out where Harvey buys his hair gel." Louis mulled this over for a few seconds, then looked around to make sure there was indeed no one lurking near his office. "And look into a toupee," he added, feeling the top of his head.

"Goal number six: steal Mike's bike and plant a camera on the rack to record his reaction." Louis giggled delightedly. "Ah, that's Dictaphone humor."

"Goal number seven – "

"Try and fail to figure out Harvey Specter's secret of being so goddamn fantastic," Harvey interjected as he strode into Louis' office. "Norma!" Louis screeched into the intercom. "How many times have I told you to please _tell _me when I have visitors?!"

Harvey smiled devilishly. "The woman looks exhausted, Louis. I sent her to the break room for a cup of tea. I don't blame her though – she does have to work for you everyday, after all." Louis scowled. "What is it, Harvey?" he snapped peevishly as the senior partner picked up a pen from Louis' desk and examined it nonchalantly. "The Bainbridge briefs. Give them to Gregory, Mike's doing my work."

Louis scoffed. "No, I need him on this. Gregory's a fucking idiot."

"Clearly."

"Harvey, I reign over _all _the associates. Including Mike. So your domain is imminently mine!" Louis spluttered with the air of a child saying _so there!_

Harvey raised his eyebrows. "Did you really just say that?"

"Still working on it," Louis mumbled under his breath.

"Give me Mike back or I send out the video I have of you practicing ballet in the file room to the entire firm."

Louis gasped. "You wouldn't!"

"_Including_ past and current clients." Harvey said over his shoulder on his way out. "And your wife told me to tell you hi," he added, snickering to himself.

"Still not funny!" Louis called after him. Of course it was.

* * *

Mike was waiting for Harvey outside of his office under the pretense of having an important file of utmost necessity. He hovered hopefully near Donna's desk despite her repeated huffs of annoyance. "Did you save me?" he asked, following Harvey inside.

"I did not _save_ you," Harvey said, not liking the assumption that he cared about the day-to-day woes of his associate_._ "I took you back so I don't have to do all the work that you're supposed to do for me."

Mike grinned. "You missed me. Admit it!"

"Say that again and I'm sending you back." Mike backed away. "I'll be good." Harvey nodded in approval. "Good. Here," he said, tossing Mike a few files. "Look through these and find me a loophole for the Anderson case. I want precedent too." Mike opened his mouth to complain about how much time it was going to take him, but thought better of it and scampered out, not wanting to admit that he much preferred doing Harvey's work as opposed to Louis'.

"Admit it." The voice crackled from his intercom. "Admit what?" Harvey asked irritably. Donna cackled. "You missed him." Harvey argued the opposite, but Donna remained convinced. "Look how much happier you are now that you know he's doing your work," she pointed out. "Plus you're listening to The Beatles, which you only do when you're in a good mood." Harvey hated that she knew him so well. "I'm just glad I don't have to deal with Harvard Douche's incompetence anymore," he grumbled, referring to Gregory. "Okay," Donna snorted skeptically, which Harvey ignored.

* * *

A few hours later, Mike stumbled blearily into Harvey's office. Without waiting for an invitation, he sank onto the couch in a cloud of fatigue. "Ta-da," he announced with a flourish, holding out the file for Harvey's inspection. The sheet containing the problematic clause was on top, the specific section clearly highlighted with Mike's notes scribbled in the corner. "Not bad, kid," Harvey said. "But the problem is, how do we get Tanner to show his cards?" They tossed theories back and forth for the next hour as the firm slowly emptied.

Mike rubbed his eyes with exhaustion. "You know what, we need some music," he decided. He got up to squint at the rows and rows of records. "Touch those, lose a hand," came Harvey's response from his spot behind his desk. He hadn't moved for the past hour, and Mike heard bones crack as the older man stretched his arms. He got up to join his associate as they both scanned the shelves for the appropriate record. Mike dropped to his knees to look at the lower shelf. "The Beach Boys?" Mike scoffed. "Spandeau Ballet?" Harvey snatched them out of the younger man's hands. "What did I say about touching? And those were a gift," he muttered. "You clearly don't have the diverse and engaging musical repetoire that I possess."

"Sure, Harvey. What's next? Justin Bieber? Britney Spears? Carly Rae Jepsen? No, I've got it – you definitely fall asleep to "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together," Mike teased.

"You don't need to recite all your favorite music, Mikey," Harvey answered patronizingly. He grinned. "Never took you for a Taylor Swift fan," he added, not realizing until later that he had admitted to actually knowing what Mike had been referring to. They ended up compromising on Led Zeppelin, what with Mike dismissing Harvey's blues records as "old" and Harvey's refusal to let Mike plug in his iPod and blast Swedish House Mafia.

When Donna looked back into the glass office twenty minutes later, the pair was squabbling about the proper lyrics to "Time" by David Bowie. "Mike, it's SWANKING," Harvey said with a frown as Mike curled into a ball of laughter. "What?"

"What is 'swanking?' What does that even mean? It goes, 'Time – he flexes like a whore, falls WANKING to the floor," Mike sang horribly. He raised his eyebrows into a Harvey-like expression. This prompted Mike to rummage through the records as Harvey chased him around the room. Mike managed to grab the correct record and the music began playing. They both stood still, waiting for the line in the song to come. Mike reveled in this rare occurrence, leaving Harvey annoyed, slightly embarrassed, and marginally proud that the younger man was one of the only people able to one-up him.

"So do I have to explain 'wanking' to you as well?"

**As always, please review! Right now I'm updating quickly because I clearly have no life, but it most likely won't always be as quick. But the more reviews, the faster I'll post because I get all flattered and happy :) Requests/suggestions always welcome.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Thank you for the reviews! So this chapter is quite angsty, inspired by the last episode. In this chapter, it's as if the kid (I think he was named Liam?) in the last episode got high and hit another person while driving under the influence. I hope you guys like it :)**

* * *

Mike closed his eyes in aggravation, pressing his fingers into his temples in an attempt to ease his massive migraine. "There's nothing here," he exploded in frustration, pushing the messy stack of files away. He wanted to scream. Harvey ran a hand through his hair, sending the dark blonde strands into a rare state of disarray. "It has to be," he answered, trying to keep his voice level though he felt as though he was about to snap with frustration. Mike remained silent, though the air hung with loaded tension. After ten minutes, he could no longer hold it in. "God Harvey, don't you get it?" he asked in a voice dangerously close to a shout. "_There is nothing here. _We can't help this kid because he's a fucking dumbass who got high _again _and crashed his fucking car _again _after _we _got him off last time!" He was standing now, chest heaving with emotion. His head throbbed as memories prickled at the edge of his mind. Harvey's eyes flashed. "This is our _job, _Mike. We work for the client, and what the client wants is for us to find a way to get her son out of prison time. You told me you could handle this, Mike."

"I _can _handle this," Mike shot back.

"Then sit down and do your job," Harvey responded evenly. Mike didn't move. The senior partner stared into the younger man's eyes, his gaze hardening. "What?" he challenged.

"Don't you have any sense of right and wrong?" Mike burst out. "This is _wrong. _He killed someone last time, and he almost killed another person this time!" He was yelling now, a vein pulsing in his forehead.

Harvey strode up to him, causing him to take a surprised step backwards. "And what makes you any different?" Harvey snarled. "Huh? When I found you, you were running from the cops with a briefcase full of pot. I hired you anyway. And what do you do? You get stoned. So get down off your moral high horse." Mike made a weak protest, but Harvey ignored it. "You really think I don't know you well enough to tell when you're stoned out of your goddamn mind? I don't give a shit what you do with your personal life, but do _not _start screwing things up around here."

"Oh right," Mike yelled with fresh anger. "Because that's all you care about anyway, right? Yourself. It couldn't be about me, or Liam, because it's always about you. It doesn't matter if _I _screw up – only if it affects the great Harvey Specter!"

Harvey stepped even closer so that his face was only inches away from Mike's. He grabbed the knot of the associate's tie. "Listen, kid," he hissed. "You have no idea what I've done for you. You wanna get high on the job? Go ahead. Violate attorney-client privilege? Fine. But I'm _done _covering your ass." He released the younger man, his eyes blazing. Harvey straightened his tie and sat back down. "Find precedent or get out," he said, pretending to be immersed in the paperwork in front of him as though it couldn't have bothered him in the slightest either way. Mike stood there, his jaw pulsing. Half of him wanted to punch Harvey and the other was still wondering why the senior partner had given him a chance in the first place.

Half of Harvey wanted to grab the kid by his collar and throw him out, and the other half was trying very hard to pretend he didn't care as much as he did. He concentrated on making his actions as nonchalant as possible, though every fiber of his being wanted Mike to stay. He wasn't at all sure he wouldn't try to chase the kid if he actually did leave. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mike still standing there.

Just as Harvey was starting to worry if the kid had gone into some sort of shock, Mike took a step towards him. "Harvey?" he asked, hating how his voice was cracking. The words were stuck in his throat, and he felt as if he were choking on all the things he wanted to say. _Please don't fire me. I need this job. Liam reminds me too much of myself, and this case is basically a modern version of my childhood. I miss my parents, so much. Everyday. Grammy too. I don't have anyone left but you, and that's too pathetic to admit out loud. This job is the best thing that happened to me, and the worst. I wish I didn't have a goddamn eidetic memory that sears every single fucking moment permanently into my mind. You wanna know why I smoke? It's a huge fucking relief from the real-world disaster that is my life. You're everything I want to be, and yet you're a constant reminder of everything I'm not. I can't lose you. I don't know what having a father is like, but I'd imagine it's a little like this. _

* * *

_I walked a minute in your shoes, they never would've fit_

_I figured there's nothing to lose,_

_I need to get some perspective on these words before I write them down_

_You're an island and my ship has run aground_

_Lord knows I'll fail you time and again,_

_But you and me, we're alright._

* * *

**Please review! 5 and I'll put the next chapter up. Also, as a side note, did anyone else think it was completely adorable how Harvey talked to that little girl and brought her flowers?! **


	5. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for the reviews! This chapter was kind of hard to write for some reason, but hopefully it turned out okay. Some awkwardness at the office after the last chapter, but it's fine in the end :) **

* * *

Mike accidentally bumped into Harvey in the hallway. He'd been carrying a huge stack of files, and had been too busy trying not to rock out to the music blaring through his ear buds. "Oh, uh, sorry, Harvey," he said, flustered. Harvey quirked an eyebrow. "It's fine. Is that for me?" he asked, nodding to the papers. Mike quickly shoved them at the senior partner. "All done. I found just cause on page 252." He left before Harvey could say anything, walking as fast as he could without actually breaking into a jog.

Mike had been avoiding Harvey for most of the day. When Harvey showed up to give him work, he simply took it and dashed away before they could hold an actual conversation. Mike still couldn't believe the extent to which he had embarrassed himself last night. He'd tried to utter a simple apology so things could go back to normal, but instead an onslaught of thoughts had poured out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. The only comfort he had was that he knew Harvey hadn't managed to catch everything due to the speed with which the words had tumbled out. The senior partner had reacted with surprising empathy, considering his allergy to all things emotional. Still, it was embarrassing, Mike reflected. He'd meant to prove his maturity and instead he'd broken down like a toddler. At one point, he was quite certain there'd been…contact. A hug, to be specific. Mike winced at the memory, though a small voice at the back of his mind insisted he wouldn't mind that much if it happened again. At least he knew Harvey wasn't mad at him anymore. Mike just needed a couple hours to lick his wounds. He sighed and turned his attention to the pile of work in front of him. Only 2 hours to go.

* * *

"Harvey, why is Mike avoiding you?" Donna prodded as she handed him his fourth coffee of the day.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, trying to brush past her into the relative safety of his office. She caught his elbow. "I think you do. That kid usually follows you around like a lost puppy, and I've hardly seen him today. So what happened?" He tried to shake her off, but her grip was surprisingly firm. "Nothing! I – oh no, don't –" Donna had put her head between her hands, sobbing. Harvey looked away uncomfortably. "I know you're faking," he tried. The redhead didn't let up. "You don't trust me," she choked out between sobs. "I just – I thought we were friends – " She burst into a new round of wails. Harvey patted her arm awkwardly, looking around to make sure no one was near enough to witness him actually caring. "We are friends! All right, fine," he relented. Donna sat up immediately, her makeup perfectly intact. Harvey rolled his eyes. "Of course," he said, exasperated that she'd managed to trick him yet again. "Mike had a…sort of breakdown last night," he finished the sentence quickly as Donna was staring him down. The expression in her eyes was frighteningly fierce. "What did you do?" she snarled.

"It wasn't my fault!" he said defensively. "I…okay, I was a _little_ hard on him." Donna sighed impatiently. "The kid worships you, you know that, right?" she asked. "So what'd you do?" Harvey looked away again. "You did comfort him, right?" she asked, her voice hardening like steel. He coughed awkwardly to buy himself more time. "I, um, you know…I patted him on the back. Sort of." Donna grinned suddenly. "What?" Harvey asked, not liking her smug expression. "You hugged him," she said as she resumed tapping away on the computer. "No," Harvey said loudly. "No, I didn't."

"Uh huh," Donna responded, not bothering to look away from the screen. "So then how'd you 'pat' him? From across the room?" Harvey scowled. "I don't have time for this," he said before disappearing into his office. Donna shook her head at his typical evasion tactic. "You know I'm right," she said into the intercom. She looked up to see Harvey unplugging it.

* * *

It had been a long day, and there was just one meeting left before they were done for the night. Harvey felt slightly odd without seeing Mike at least four times an hour. Not that he _missed_ him or anything. Still, there was a slight feeling of relief as the kid wordlessly dropped into the seat next to him. He permitted himself a tiny grin.

A few minutes into the meeting, Harvey felt a skinny elbow nudge him. He ignored it, choosing to focus on Jessica. A few seconds later, he felt the nudge again. Suppressing a sigh, he looked over at his associate, who was seated innocently next to him. Mike was determinedly looking at Jessica with an expression of utmost attention, though his lips were starting to curve upwards. Harvey looked at the note near his elbow. The kid was obviously pleased with himself, having managed to pass him a note during the meeting without getting caught. Harvey wasn't sure why the juvenile act was such an accomplishment, but he read the note anyway. At least they were communicating again, albeit on paper.

**I think Kyle has a crush on you.**

Harvey rolled his eyes, though a chuckle escaped his lips. He glanced over at the associate in question, who quickly looked away and pretended he hadn't been staring fixedly at Harvey for the past 10 minutes. Mike raised his eyebrows as if to say, _I told you so._ Harvey scribbled something and pushed the paper back.

**_He's got good taste._**

It was Mike's turn to roll his eyes. Harvey's handwriting was surprisingly sloppy, which he found somehow comforting. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting – calligraphy, perhaps? Although it made sense – Mike briefly wondered how often Harvey actually handwrote anything besides his signature.

**Didn't know he was your type. And your handwriting sucks.**

Harvey smirked at Mike's petulant response.

**_Jealous? And at least it's legible. I practically need a cryptographer to decipher it. _**

**I am NOT jealous! Clearly you CAN read it, considering how I saved your ass on the last case. I'd also like to point out that the great Harvey Specter has a flaw.**

**_It sounds like you are. And it's not a FLAW. What do you want me to do, write in cursive? My handwriting is _****_masculine_****_._**

Mike narrowed his eyes in thought. When Harvey looked over at him, wondering about the lack of response (passing notes, though childish, was admittedly more entertaining than enduring Jessica's analysis of the quarterly budget allowance.) She'd broken out the flow charts, which Harvey found completely intolerable. Mike was hunched over the legal pad they'd been using, hard at work. He finally slid it back over to Harvey after a few minutes, looking extremely pleased with himself.

**Stop flattering yourself. You wish you could write like this.**

Harvey read the 10 words that had apparently taken the kid approximately 12 years to write. Harvey was impressed Mike had the ability to write in such painstakingly neat cursive, even if it had taken him a decade to write. He shoved his reply back.

**_I can, I just choose not to._**

Just as Mike was snorting skeptically, a shadow passed over the legal pad. The associate quickly put his hand over in an almost-suave attempt to hide it. Louis hovered behind their chairs. "Passing notes?" he asked bitchily. Apparently, the meeting was over.

"_Taking_ notes," Harvey answered coolly. He leaned back in his chair and swiveled casually to face the junior partner. "Is there a reason you're still standing here?"

"I'm telling Jessica," Louis sniffed. "This is so unprofessional, Harvey."

"About what?" Mike asked innocently. The legal pad had vanished. Harvey raised his eyebrows in an equally innocent manner.

"I just saw it," Louis sniped. "Where'd it go?" He craned his neck as if to look under the table. Catching Mike's look of alarm, Harvey decided he'd better distract him. "Don't you have something better to do than crawl under tables?" he asked sarcastically. Louis straightened up, looking affronted. He opened his mouth and was undoubtedly about to retaliate when Jessica intervened. "Play nice," she mandated. "Louis, I need to speak with you about the Vargas case." With a final parting glare, Louis finally left. Mike exhaled in relief. "Thank God. Can we please go and pee in Louis' office tonight?" he asked. The senior partner looked as though he were seriously contemplating this before sighing. "His cat died, remember?" he reminded Mike.

"Oh." Mike paused. "So you're saying we shouldn't do it because you feel bad that his pet died?"

Harvey scoffed. "No. I'm saying we have no one to blame it on."

* * *

**I hope you liked it. Please review! Suggestions always welcome. Oh and this is so random, but I feel like Harvey's hair keeps changing. I can't decide if I like it dark or lighter...he kind of looks amazing both ways! x**


	6. Chapter 5

**As always, thank you guys for your amazing reviews! New episode tonight, I'm excited to an embarrassing extent. So to tide you over until then:**

* * *

Mike was quite happily curled up on the floor of Harvey's office, stuffing his face with takeout. Harvey was seated across from him, papers spread out all around them. They were working on the Ford case, trying to find a loophole. Or at least, they had been. Mike was merely pretending by now, his focus long gone. "Do not get that anywhere near me or my furniture," Harvey said, gesturing to Mike's food with a chopstick. Mike had had a very slight mishap on the couch earlier, thus why he had been relegated to the floor. At least Harvey had joined him, though he was about three seconds away from offering Mike a sippy cup. "Harvey, I'm not five years old. I think I know how to eat without a bib," he responded, rolling his eyes. Harvey smirked. "Now there's an idea."

"Shut up," Mike mumbled, reaching for a napkin.

"Oh shit!" Mike squeaked, staring in horror at the splotch of sauce he'd accidentally flicked onto Harvey's pristine suit. He'd managed to land it directly on the lapel of Harvey's suit jacket as well as the collar of his perfectly starched shirt. The dark sauce was already settling into the light fabric, most likely ruining it. Harvey stopped laughing immediately. He stared down at his suit, then up at Mike.

"You did _not _just do that."

* * *

The next morning, (after Mike had been unceremoniously kicked out of Harvey's office with orders to take the stained jacket to the dry cleaner's), the pair was back to poring over the files. "Why are we doing this, again?" Mike grumbled. "Tax evasion cases are so boring. Why didn't you give this to Louis? I thought finances were his thing."

"Because Tom is _my_ client," Harvey said, a slightly possessive tone to his voice. He was still scanning the documents in front of him, searching for precedent.

"You just like being on a first-name basis with the guy who designs all your suits," Mike muttered.

Harvey looked up sharply. "What was that?" Mike flushed slightly but didn't take it back. "I'll have you know that Tom Ford _pioneered_ formal menswear," the senior partner lectured. "The fit, cut, and lapel are defining features that – "

Mike cut him off. "It's _just a suit,"_ he said slowly. "Do you need a minute alone?" he asked, smirking. Harvey scowled. "That's classic, coming from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mike asked, stung.

Harvey shrugged casually. "Nothing. Just that you're the one who spent $500 on _5 suits."_

"Not all of us have thousands to spare!"

The older man stared at him. "Get it through your head. This isn't something you spend your spare money on – it's a _necessity_. Appearance is part of our job." He straightened his already perfect lapel. Mike was shaking his head. "That's it. Get up," Harvey said, moving out from behind his desk.

"Where are we going?" Mike asked suspiciously as he trotted after him, placing a hand on his skinny tie to stop it from flapping. He tugged his messenger back over his head. Harvey looked over at him and slowly shook his head as if the sight of his associate were actually painful to behold. "_What?_" the younger man demanded.

Ray stopped at the corner of Madison and 70th St. "Here we are," he said cheerfully. "Thanks, Ray," Harvey said. He nodded towards the door on Mike's side. "Get out." Mike actually looked scared for a moment. "Are you leaving me here?!" Harvey rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a smile. "I'm coming with you, idiot."

"Oh." Mike obediently crawled out, and the pair stepped out onto the street. An elegant grey awning with TOM FORD on it greeted them. The younger man swallowed. He reluctantly followed Harvey into the glossy storefront. "Harvey, I can't afford any of this," Mike hissed. "Shut up," was the only response he received. "Harvey, I know you think this is important and all, but there's some stuff that takes precedence over suits, like _food –_"

"Harvey!" A suave man slightly older than Harvey called out, coming over to them. He was dressed in a sharp, slim-fit black suit. The top four buttons of his white shirt were open, and his jaw was covered in stubble. Evidently this was his casual look.

"Tom," Harvey greeted the designer. They shook hands genially. "What can I do for you, today?" Tom asked, guiding them over to the racks of expensive suits. Harvey turned to Mike. "My associate here needs some new suits," he clarified. Mike felt himself go red with embarrassment. Tom ignored this, cocking his head and looking him over. "Ah," he said politely. "Hmmm…" he walked around Mike in a circle, taking in every detail. Mike shifted uncomfortably. "Very slim," Tom said approvingly. "Narrow hips."

"Umm…"

The designer snapped his fingers. "I know what to do," he said, bustling off. Mike turned to Harvey. "What are you _doing_?!"

"Helping you. I think a little gratitude is in order," Harvey said, rifling through a rack of shirts. Mike paled as he took in the prices. "Harvey, I –"

"Can't afford them, I know," Harvey answered, examining a particularly oxford in pale blue.

"So what are we –"

"Just go with me on this," the senior partner interrupted as Tom came back with an assistant. Several options were draped over the young woman's arms. She was quite pretty, Mike noticed.

"We'll start with this," the designer mused, picking up a sleek grey jacket.

"Put these on first," Harvey said, tossing Mike a crisp new shirt and the matching grey pants. He nodded towards the dressing room behind Mike. "And these," he added, shoving a pair of shiny leather shoes into his arms. Mike tried to glare at Harvey with the appropriate amount of annoyance, but he couldn't quite manage it. He didn't want to be churlish, after all, he reflected as he retreated into the spacious dressing room.

"Ahhh," Tom said in approval as Mike came out. The woman held out the jacket for him, and he awkwardly maneuvered his arms into it. Even he had to admit there was _something _about wearing an obscenely gorgeous, expensive suit. "Up there," she said, nodding towards the pedestal in front of a three-way mirror. Harvey straightened out the back of the jacket as Tom pulled the sleeves down. "I am not a mannequin," Mike mumbled. No one paid him any attention. "What about a tie?" Harvey asked Tom critically as all three surveyed him. Tom snapped his fingers. "I know just the one." He turned and selected a navy silk tie with a tiny diamond pattern, flecked with white and lilac. Ignoring Mike's attempts to tie it by himself (which were useless anyway), Harvey expertly wound a Windsor knot around the younger man's neck. They stood back to take in the final result.

Tom: "At last! Excellent."

Assistant: "Yes, _very_ nice."

Despite Mike's feeble protests, Harvey handed over his black AmEx to pay for the suit. "It's about time you at least _look _like you've got your shit together."

* * *

**I know in the show Harvey goes to Rene, but the suits are all Tom Ford, so I decided to go with that. I hope you liked it! Please review x**


	7. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay. Started classes again (ugh) and this chapter was hard to write, so I hope it turned out okay! It's a bit longer than the others, so hopefully that counts for something. Thank you all so much for the feedback, it makes my day :)**

* * *

Mike huffed impatiently as Harvey decided it was time to lean himself against the wall and slide down to the floor. "Harvey!"

The senior partner barely gave him a passing glance from his comfortable seat on the floor. "What?"

Mike grunted and heaved himself against the door for the thousandth time. "It's. Not. Working," he said through gritted teeth. "Thank you, Captain Obvious," Harvey said dryly. Mike's forehead was beginning to break out in tiny beads of perspiration, since apparently his boss was incapable of doing anything that required him to sweat. Even if it meant they were stuck in the file room. Indefinitely.

* * *

***12 hours earlier**

Harvey smirked as Mike walked in from his position near Donna's desk. She whistled. "Aren't we looking dapper today?" Harvey asked with a grin.

"My God, he's all grown up!" Mike wasn't sure if Donna was being sarcastic or sincere. Most of the time, it was actually quite hard to tell.

"With me to thank for that," Harvey chimed in.

Mike felt supremely uncomfortable as Harvey, Donna, and a passing associate ogled his new suit. "Yup," he said, trying to slide by without further comment.

"Stop," Donna commanded. "Come here." He slunk over, wishing he had put on his regular suit and skinny tie that morning. Although then he'd have to endure an entire day of Harvey lecturing him on how ungrateful he was. Which, admittedly, wouldn't be completely undeserved. Donna sighed happily as she ran a hand over the fine fabric of Mike's jacket. "Now _that _is a suit."

"That's what I said," Harvey agreed smugly.

"Am I interrupting something?" Louis asked snarkily, coming from out of nowhere. "How cute. Mike's first day of school?" he asked.

Donna sniffed. "How dare you think I'm old enough to be Mike's mother," she said coldly, sitting back down at her desk and fixedly ignoring him. Louis handed Mike a tall stack of files, covering up his own faux pas. "Fix this."

"Wha – Harvey!" Mike said, taking in the size of the pile and turning to his boss with beseeching eyes. Harvey, however, perhaps slightly miffed by Louis' unintentional (or _was _it intentional?) suggestion of Harvey being Mike's _dad_, merely shrugged and retreated into his office. "Don't forget to finish mine first," he called over his shoulder. Mike groaned and went back to his cubicle. _Shit_.

* * *

After he'd dumped Louis' finished case onto Norma's desk, Mike headed over to Harvey's office.

"It's alive, it's alive!" he said, brandishing a pile of briefs.

Harvey looked over the papers. "Elementary, my dear Watson."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, you ain't heard nothing yet!" Mike placed another folder on top.

The older man's eyes lit up as he took in the information. "Hello, gorgeous."

Mike nodded and rubbed his hands together. "Hasta la vista, baby."

"Show me the money!"

"I feel the need – the need for speed!"

"Snap out of it."

"I'm king of the world!" Mike called as Harvey shut the door in his face.

Evidently he wasn't king of the world, because Harvey's way of thanking him had been to unload another pro-bono on him, meaning Mike had spent the last few hours in the file room. Meaning, it was most definitely Harvey's fault they were stuck here in the first place. Mike fought the urge to point this out again, knowing it wouldn't do him any good. He could practically still feel the effects of the death glare he'd received when he had pointed it out the first time.

Mike gave up and plopped down next to Harvey. The older man quirked an eyebrow, as if questioning the slight invasion of personal space, but didn't say anything. He merely shrugged off his suit jacket off and draped it neatly on the patch of floor beside him.

"How are you so calm?" Mike exploded.

"Because I know someone will come get us. And I don't freak out like a _child _when faced with a minor situation."

"Uh, I'd hardly classify this as minor," Mike pointed out. "It's already 9 o'clock at night, which means all the _normal_ people have gone home already, and if they haven't, they certainly aren't going to come down to the file room."

"Maybe you hadn't been an idiot and forgotten your key card." Mike scowled. "I thought you were supposed to have a eidetic memory," Harvey went on. "It's not the same thing," the younger man said with exasperation as Harvey went on to list the multiple things Mike always seemed to be forgetting: his keys, where he'd put his highlighters, and whether or not his leftovers in the fridge were from two days or five days ago.

"Hey, you're in here too."

"Because I came to save your ass from Louis' workload. Excuse me for thinking you aren't borderline brain-dead."

"Why don't you just carry your own key card like you're supposed to?" Mike asked, stung.

Harvey scoffed. "I have better things to do than spend my time in file room. That's what I have you for."

"You just don't like wearing the lanyard," Mike surmised.

"That too."

They lapsed into somewhat companionable silence. Harvey noticed Mike was agitatedly rubbing his face, pushing the heels of his palms into his eyes with distress. "Kid, it'll be fine," Harvey said, trying to reassure him. He didn't need his associate to have a nervous breakdown. He half-heartedly pulled out his phone again. The screen blinked with the same message it had an hour ago: NO SERVICE. He jabbed at the buttons experimentally.

Mike rolled his eyes. "You can't just press random buttons and hope you suddenly get signal."

Harvey quickly replaced his phone in his pocket. "That isn't what I was doing," he lied.

Mike raised his eyebrows sarcastically. Harvey relented. "All right, fine. Whose moronic idea was it to put the file room in the basement anyway?" he muttered.

"Louis'."

"Really?"

"No. I just like blaming him for things. It makes me feel better," Mike explained. Harvey chuckled. "Although he's really not that bad," he acquiesced, thinking of how Louis had cleaned his cuts after Tess's husband beat him up.

"He has his moments," Harvey said grudgingly. Mike looked at him. "You do realize he basically wants to be you?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Jesus. Egotistical much?" Mike waved his hand as Harvey opened his mouth to respond. "That was rhetorical. Seriously though, can't you tell how much he wants you to like him? Or at least _tolerate _him?"

Harvey looked away uncomfortably, but it was impossible to avoid his associate's earnest blue eyes. "I tore up his resignation letter! What else do you want me to do? Take him to dinner and a movie?"

"I've been thinking about this," Mike persisted, ignoring his boss's sarcasm. _Oh God_, Harvey thought. _Here it goes_. He felt his eyes glaze over as Mike babbled on, elaborating on the deep and undiscovered psychology of Louis Litt. "Let me stop you before you profess your undying love."

"I just think you've been a little harsh on him," Mike shrugged, ignoring the jab. _And on me_, he mentally added. He yawned, which Harvey took as an opportunity to change the subject. "Tired?" The associate shrugged. "S'okay."

"So who was it that kept you up so late?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"It's none of your business!"

Harvey ignored him and went on. "Not your blonde friend. Not your married friend. Ah-ha!" he said in a mock epiphany. "So that leaves…your paralegal friend?"

"Her name is Rachel!" As soon as he'd said it, Mike wished he hadn't. Of course Harvey knew who Rachel was. He had just wanted Mike to admit it. And now the grin on the senior partner's face resembled the Cheshire Cat.

Mike glanced at the clock. 10.30PM, and no one was coming. The law firm was empty and quiet. He was in for a long night.

* * *

**Quotes are from: Frankenstein, Sherlock Holmes, The Jazz Singer, Funny Girl, Terminator 2, Jerry Macguire, Top Gun, Moonstruck and Titanic.** **I was watching the YouTube video and couldn't resist :) Plus I just discovered the 2nd version, which is amazing. Also can't believe they fired Harold, I loved him. Enough rambling though, I hope you guys liked it and please review! x**


	8. Chapter 6 (Part 2)

**Thank you all so much for the feedback, it means a lot! 2lazy2login, you're right, the last chapter ended a bit abruptly, so I decided to continue with it a bit in this one. Stony Angel, they are rescued by Donna! And hikeyosemite, thank you for reviewing every chapter, it always brightens my day! So here we go: they get rescued by Donna in the morning, and some other fluff about their night in the file room :)**

* * *

Donna peered through the small window on the door to the file room. Her lips curved into a grin, unable to suppress her glee. The two of them were passed out on the floor, Mike's head resting on Harvey's shoulder. Their suit jackets were spread out over them like a blanket. Even from behind the door, Donna could hear Mike's soft snores. Adorable. She looked around, ensuring there was no one yet at the office. Carefully, she swiped her card through the security panel and quietly opened the door. Donna pulled her phone out and quickly snapped a photo, stowing it away for later use and/or blackmail. Plus they were just cute like that, sprawled in a pile like puppies. She grabbed the coffee she always bought for Harvey and waved it enticingly under his nose. The senior partner and his associate stirred at the scent of the delicious liquid.

"Harvey. Mike," Donna cooed as if they were toddlers waking up from a nap. "Wake up." As they gradually came to their senses, Mike quickly jolted away from Harvey. Though both men pretended not to notice, their eyes met in a brief, mutual acknowledgement that the situation would never again be discussed. "Come on," Donna urged. "Time to get up." Mike mistakenly took her hand gesture as an offer to help him out. She withdrew her hand just as he reached for it, causing his long limbs to flail before he managed to gather himself and get to his feet.

Harvey was far too used to Donna's antics to fall for it in the first place. The older man gracefully stood up, brushing invisible specks off his vest. "Donna – " he began.

"Already got the spare suits ready." Harvey grinned before realizing she'd spoken in the plural. "_Suits?_" he asked, emphasizing the 's.'

"Ye-es," Donna said slowly, drawing the word out into two syllables. "Mike needs one too. Unless you want him walking around like that?" she asked, gesturing to his wrinkled suit. "Representation of you, and all," she added before Harvey could protest.

Harvey grumbled. Either he had to deal with the sight of Mike's now-horrendously-wrinkled suit (it literally hurt his eyes to see the expensive fabric so creased) or lend Mike his second spare. Neither option was particularly appealing.

"Hello!" Mike waved his arms. "I'm still here, you know." Harvey and Donna ignored him. They seemed to be locked in some sort of mental argument, and it seemed as though Harvey had lost. Disgruntled, the senior partner turned towards the door. Before leaving, he turned back to Mike. "Don't stain it, don't wrinkle it, don't touch anything, and don't sit down, got it?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer.

"Don't _sit? _He's joking, right?" Mike turned to look at Donna. "Donna?" He was met only by the lingering scent of perfume.

* * *

Mike took a moment to rub his face, trying to wake himself up. Against Harvey's orders, he was being a total daredevil and sitting at his desk. Though Donna, in a surprisingly motherly move, had given him her own coffee ("You need it more than I do. I'm Donna, whereas you are a mere human being"), he was still exhausted. "Hey, Mike!" Kyle jeered. "Did Daddy lend you that?"

"Fuck off, Durant," Mike said tiredly. He knew he looked like a little kid playing dress-up in Harvey's too-big suit. And his theory was right – only Harvey could pull of the three-piece style with finesse. On him, it merely looked stupid, as he'd already pointed out to Harvey. He'd been planning to simply discard the vest, but Harvey had had been one step ahead of him and threatened a _month_ working under Louis if he caught Mike without the vest on. Ergo, here he was. Though he complained to Harvey, he actually didn't mind that much. He could swear he felt a bit more…_suave._

Though he would never admit it, Harvey got a little kick out of seeing Mike wearing the three-piece. He felt somewhat…_fond. _In a manly way. Not _fatherly_ or anything, Harvey assured himself. Three-piece suits were just the way to go. _For everyone_, he continued musing to himself, though his stomach roiled with disgust at the thought of Louis or Gregory in a three-piece. They just couldn't pull it off.

"The princess is here to see you," Donna's voice crackled over the intercom as Louis knocked on the door, interrupting Harvey's mental conversation with himself. He spun around on his chair to face him. "Louis," he greeted him, his voice a perfected blend of courtesy blended with a subtle – no, definite hint of mocking. Harvey cocked his head in a show of exaggerated interest. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Baroness Litt?" he asked, smirking. Donna snickered over the intercom as Louis scowled in annoyance. He placed a hand on his hip in a typically fey manner. "I came here to ask a question," he sniped. "But if you're too busy laughing at your own jokes, I'll just take Mike for the day."

"Ask away, Duchess," Harvey responded mildly. Louis ticked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, but continued. "Harvey, I need your help on this case," he said, hating how he had to ask for help from a man who seemed to hate him. Harvey's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He leaned back and folded his arms. "Since when do you need my help?" he asked.

Louis rubbed his eyebrow. "Look, these clients are…I don't really know how to relate to them. Okay?"

"So what do you need me for?" Harvey asked, not getting why Louis specifically needed his help.

"You're cool," Louis blurted. Shock registered in Harvey's eyes. "I mean," Louis backpedaled. "I mean…they're cool. I mean, they're young. And…and hip."

"And you think I would be right for them?" Harvey asked, unable to suppress a giant grin. Louis shrugged and looked away in discomfort. "So you think I'm cool," Harvey gloated. He knew he was, of course. It was just nice to hear someone like Louis say it out loud.

"Who's the princess now?" Louis snapped. He dropped the file on Harvey's desk. "Just…woo them for me, okay?" He turned on his heel and left before Harvey could make any more fun of him, breezing past Mike on his way out.

"What just happened?" Mike asked, jerking a thumb in Louis' direction. "He was so red I thought he'd have an aneurysm."

"Oh nothing," Harvey said smugly, examining the case file. "Just talking about how cool I am." Mike snorted in slight disbelief, though he wasn't actually surprised at all. "Louis called you cool?"

"Yup."

"I was _so_ right," he crowed as Harvey rolled his eyes. Mike desperately wanted to continue in this vein and say _I told you so_, but quickly realized he would only boost Harvey's already overinflated ego by inadvertently admitting that he also thought Harvey was cool. Especially after their awkwardly unacknowledged cuddle-session last night. Mike wasn't sure, as he continually tried to block it out of his brain, but he was quite certain that at some point during the night he'd asked Harvey for sex advice. Without even the excuse of being drunk! At least they were both pretending the entire trapped-in-a-room-together thing hadn't happened. At first, Harvey had laughed, but had quickly sobered up when he realized Mike was actually being serious.

"Are you seriously asking me that?"

The pair of blue eyes told him yes. The older man sighed. "Alright, well first – " he tried not to squirm – he was thirty-two years old, for Christ's sake – "use protection."

Mike cringed, immediately wishing he could take back his question. "Harvey – "

"You have to be safe," the senior partner insisted gruffly. Goddamn it, how had this turned into a sex talk? Surely Mike already knew all of this. He wasn't virgin, after all, despite everyone else's initial thought. But he felt some weird need to say it anyway.

Mike's ears were bright red. "Got it. Anything else, anything actually _useful_ that I don't already know?" His tone was carefully sarcastic, but Harvey knew the kid was actually asking for advice. He pondered this for a moment. "Okay. There is this one thing – " he began before a loud noise startled the pair of them.

"Oh my God. What was that?" Mike asked, automatically clutching at Harvey. He looked around in paranoia, as if expecting an axe murderer to kick down the door.

"You've been watching too many zombie marathons at night," Harvey scoffed, though he made no effort to dislodge the kid's slightly sweat grip on his arm. The noise thumped again, and Harvey jumped involuntarily.

"Don't even try to tell me you're not scared too!" Mike said defensively.

Harvey heaved a sigh, covering his own irrational fear. "Since it looks like I'm the only grown up…" he got to his feet, shaking off Mike's ironclad grip. "Relax. I'm going to go check it out, okay?" he told his associate, who was growing more terrified by the second. Harvey crept over to the door and pressed his face against the small window. "I don't see anything – OUCH!" The noise had happened again, causing Harvey to jump and consequently bump his nose against the door. "Fuck!" he said, gingerly touching his nose.

"Don't worry, pretty boy, nothing's broken," Mike said, peering around Harvey's shoulder. "Harvey, do you hear footsteps?" he asked nervously.

"Get it together kid, there's no one there," Harvey said. Suddenly, he paused. "Holy shit, I hear them too," he whispered. They both froze. Looking at each other for a fraction of a second, they then dived towards the farthest corner of the room and essentially hid behind a tall bookcase of files.

"Shhh," Harvey said urgently from his crouched position, pressing a hand against Mike's mouth. The associate was nearly hyperventilating in panic. "It's 2 in the morning," he hissed. "What is someone doing here now?"

"They're going to kill us," Mike gasped.

"Don't be ridiculous," Harvey snapped, though he privately felt this was a strong possibility. Mike was nearing a full-blown panic. Instinctively, Harvey drew an arm around the skinny kid. "Be quiet," he said more softly. They sat huddled there for the next hour, pressed against a panel of the bookshelf. After a while, Harvey deemed it safe to come out. The musty smell of the old paper files was getting to both of them, and they cautiously crept back out to their former position. "It's okay," Harvey told him. "Whatever or whoever it was is gone." Mike nodded, slightly disbelieving but also somewhat soothed by Harvey's presence. They soon fell asleep, Mike leaning into Harvey. In the darkness of the next room over, the old fax machine beeped, indicating the transmission from London was fully printed.

* * *

"Hey, we never finished last night's conversation," Mike said, his curiosity overpowering their unspoken pact. Harvey merely smiled. "Another time, kid." Mike nodded and turned to go, hovering at the door. "Can we agree on something first?" he asked.

Harvey nodded, knowing what he was talking about. "That thing last night was definitely a fucking monster," he said as Mike nodded in fervent agreement.

* * *

**So I realize this chapter actually takes place in the morning except for the flashback, despite the original concept for this fic, but I hope that's okay with you guys! And I'm running out of ideas for scenes, so if you have any suggestions or requests, just tell me. As always, please read and review x**


	9. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the delay! I had a creative block, and I was mostly working on my other fic (about the Vampire Diaries if you want to check it out!) Thank you SO much for your reviews and follows, they mean so much to me. Ah I'm so upset we'll have to wait for the summer for S3, but I'm excited for the premiere. This isn't one of my best chapters, and it's basically a huge piece of fluff, but I hope you enjoy anyway :) **

* * *

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Harvey asked solemnly.

Mike nodded, rolling his head around to crack his neck. "Never been more ready in my whole life." Harvey nodded in satisfaction and they turned back to the huge screen Mike had stolen from the IT department and wheeled into Harvey's office under the guise of needing to review important footage for a case.

Obviously, there was no such case. Mike doubted Harvey even knew how to turn the high-tech piece of equipment on. He knew for a fact the guy who'd installed Harvey's fancy TV in his own apartment had spent over an hour teaching Harvey to use the remote. He knew this because Harvey had spent an hour the next day complaining about today's "modern technology for the modern douchebag" before raging that his phone wasn't working. Mike had mistakenly pointed out Harvey had somehow turned it to airplane mode, resulting in an entire monologue about "What the fuck is fucking airplane mode? Is that for pilots? It's clearly not a very good function. I can't even access my emails."

Or the time Mike had tried to set up a Skype call between them when Harvey needed some obscure patent at 3AM for court the next morning. Obviously, he hadn't wanted to haul his ass out of bed, so he'd instructed Harvey to Skype him instead so he could tell/email/fax him the pertinent information once he understood what he wanted. Anything to avoid actually physically mounting his bike in the middle of night in winter and going to the office.

Thirty seconds in, Mike wished he'd sucked it up and just gone to the office. It was turning out to be a total nightmare. First, Harvey kept yelling at him because he was apparently convinced Mike couldn't hear him through the computer. Then he complained the lighting was off and that Mike looked like "the creepy guy from the deli." At one point, Mike was convinced Harvey had tried to pick up the computer mouse and speak into like a microphone, though he'd immediately denied it when Mike started laughing.

Needless to say, Mike had given up on teaching Harvey anything technology related, and had hooked up the wires to the gaming system himself. He'd found it hard to believe when Harvey had bragged about his superior video-game playing capabilities, thus ensuing in an impromptu match. "Bring it on," he said ominously.

"Good," Harvey said, fixing his eyes on the screen. He glanced sideways at the younger man. "Prepare to die."

Explosions erupted from the TV as they wielded the controls, Mike's shoulders up to his ears. "No. NO!" Harvey shouted as Mike's on-screen character aimed his gun and fired at the bad guys.

"Take that, motherfuckers!" Mike yelled enthusiastically.

The older man tossed his controller down in frustration. "You shot _me, _Mike. You were supposed to aim for Goldfinger and his lackeys!"

Mike sat back, furrowing his brow in the confusion as the screen filled with red, indicating they had lost. "I didn't shoot you!"

"Then why is my guy lying on the floor bleeding to death?!"

"I don't know!" Mike said, dropping his controller in panic. "Did you shoot yourself by mistake?" Harvey stared at him menacingly. "Nope, of course not, clearly. Uh…sorry?" Just as Harvey opened his mouth to convey some biting retort, the door opened and he and Mike jumped to their feet.

Jessica looked around the office, raising an eyebrow. "What is this?" she asked slowly. There was a definite note of accusation in her tone.

Harvey and Mike looked at each other. Mike's eyes widened slightly as he tried to telepathically signal some complicated plan to save them from Jessica's wrath. "It was Mike's idea," Harvey blurted before Mike had time to form coherent words.

"What?!" Mike exclaimed. "No, that is so not – we were…uh…viewing important footage pertaining to the case -"

Jessica held a hand up. "Save it, Mr. Ross. And don't think your skinny little body is hiding anything from me. I can see what's going on perfectly clear."

Mike guiltily stepped away from the TV he'd attempted to shield, revealing the controllers behind his feet. "Traitor," he hissed under his breath.

"_Harvey_," Jessica said sternly, stepping closer. "This is _your _fault!"

"What?" Harvey yelped, trying to back up. "I told you, it was –"

Jessica moved even closer. "He is YOUR responsibility!" she snarled, jabbing him in the chest with a finger. Harvey winced. Jessica inhaled, trying to get a hold of herself. "Now, I trust that you can control your associate _and_ yourself?" she asked pointedly, backing away and smoothing her dress.

"Hey!" Mike put in petulantly. "I'm not a _child-"_

"Shut up," Jessica and Harvey said simultaneously. Mike retreated to the couch, sulking. Harvey rolled his eyes. The kid was basically a four year old with giant genius brain. "Yes, Jessica," he intoned with as much sarcasm as he could get away with.

"You'd better," she warned, turning to leave. "Because if not…" She left the threat dangling.

"I thought you said Jessica left already," Mike said, springing up as soon as Jessica shut the door behind her.

"I thought she did," he said. Mike looked at him as if he was an idiot. "My bad," Harvey admitted.

"The pizza's on you next time," the associate grumbled as he picked up the flat, greasy box.

"I always pay," Harvey argued. "When have I not paid?"

"Uh, excuse me, you're forgetting Tuesday night, when I sprang for dinner for both of us?"

Harvey scoffed. "You bought us hot dogs from the stand across the street. It cost you 74 cents. It wasn't exactly the tasting menu at Per Se."

Mike briefly looked as though he was at a loss for words, but quickly recovered. "It's the thought that counts!"

"I'm the one who told you to go get food."

Mike shifted. "Um…it's the…um…"

"It's the action that counts?" Harvey deadpanned.

The associate seized upon the opportunity gratefully. "Yes! Exactly! It's the action that counts. Finally, you – oh," Mike said, catching on to his boss's sarcasm. "Fine," he said haughtily. "I see how it is."

"Pull it together, princess," Harvey said, buttoning his jacket. "We're leaving."

Mike shot a longing glance at the glowing monitor. "But it took me, like, twenty minutes to drag this thing up here!"

"Tough," Harvey said, barely paying attention. "Now you're wheeling it back, because it's served its purpose."

"What purpose was that?" Mike said, crossing his arms.

Harvey leveled a look at the younger man. "Proving that I'm better at yet another thing than you are."

Mike's mouth dropped open. "No. No way. Rematch," he demanded. Harvey started to shake his head, but Mike, seeing an opportunity, dove in. "What? Afraid you'll lose?" he sang.

Harvey's head snapped up, his eyes alight with competitiveness. "No. I guess you'll just have to see me crush you. _Again_."

After insisting best out of three in which Harvey managed to beat him, Mike finally hung his head in temporary defeat. Clearly the kid was grappling with being in the presence of such greatness.

"How is it that you suck so much at everything else technology-wise but you're a freak at video games?" Mike asked. It was mind-boggling.

"I do not _suck_ at everything else. The machines just haven't caught up to me yet."

"Oh yeah. That's the problem. The machines haven't caught up to _you_ yet," Mike scoffed. "You're like, the _epitome_ of a Luddite," he babbled.

"Any other geeky references you want to drop, or are we good?" Harvey asked with a smirk as they exited the firm.

"I'm not geeky!"

"You keep telling yourself that, kid."

_Nothing you could do_  
_could ever stop this feeling_  
_Nothing in the world_  
_could ever shake us up_  
_We've got all the stuff to_  
_break all of the rules, yeah_  
_We've got all the stuff_  
_to mess all of you up_

_We got a mad, mad love_  
_We got a mad, mad love_  
_We got a really, really, really,_  
_really, really, really, really,_  
_mad love_

_-Mad Love by Neon Trees_

* * *

**Reviews are greatly appreciated! Also shoutout to those of you who gave me amazing chapter ideas, they will definitely be making up the later chapters :)**


	10. Chapter 8

Sunlight spilled into the apartment. Harvey scowled against the sudden intrusion, wondering why he lived in a place with quite so much light. He slowly sat up, blinking groggily. His head was pounding. What the hell had he done last night to warrant such a hangover? He stumbled straight into the shower, relaxing as the hot water jets massaged his sore muscles. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he padded into the kitchen to make himself a pot of coffee.

He was interrupted by a loud snore. "HOLY JESUS WHAT THE FUCK?!" Harvey yelled in shock at the sight of a very shabby Mike sprawled out on his couch.

"Harvey?" Mike asked sleepily as he lifted his head. "You're really loud. Some courtesy, please, okay?" He went back to sleep, burrowing his head into the pillow to make himself more comfortable.

"Why are you wearing my sweatshirt?" Harvey demanded, ignoring his associate's request.

Mike groaned, trying to come to terms with the fact that his sleep was now permanently interrupted. "Because you gave it to me."

"I most certainly did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Then how am I wearing it?"

Harvey pondered this before narrowing his eyes. "Because you stole it."

"Whoa! Let's not jump to any hasty conclusions," Mike yelped.

"Why are you even in my apartment in the first place?" Harvey asked.

Mike looked back at him, confused, then a grin slowly lit his face. "Do you not remember anything about last night?"

"Of course I do," Harvey lied. "Some parts are just…less clear than others. Just refresh my memory," he snapped, folding his arms across his bare chest and momentarily forgetting he was half-naked.

"It's really weird not seeing you in a suit," Mike commented.

"Wha-" Harvey looked down in dismay.

Mike cocked his head, blatantly examining Harvey's physique in the way that a teenage girl stares jealously at runway models. "Is that from boxing?" he asked, gesturing to the older man's abs.

"This conversation isn't over yet," Harvey retorted as he stomped off to his room to put clothes on.

"Yeah, keep making threats. You're really menacing in that fluffy towel there," Mike called after him.

When Harvey returned in a long-sleeved navy tee and grey sweatpants, Mike was busy at the stove. "What are you doing?" Harvey asked suspiciously.

"Cooking," Mike answered, not bothering to look up from the pan. "It's what people normally do with stovetops and pans."

Harvey's stomach lurched at the thought of food, let alone food prepared by Mike, and he busied himself with the coffee machine. "I didn't say you could touch my pots."

"I'm cooking you breakfast and you're complaining about your pots?"

"Easy there, Martha Stewart. Want me to get you an apron?" Harvey teased. "A hairnet?"

Mike threw him a dirty look. "Why, do you actually own one?"

Harvey scowled. "What is that anyway?" he asked, eyeing the plate of unidentifiable slop nervously.

"It's Grammy's hangover cure," Mike explained happily, squirting ketchup over the whole thing. Harvey cautiously leaned in to sniff and grimaced.

"Don't exaggerate," Mike said haughtily. "I didn't take you for a weak-stomach kind of guy. This is Gram's special hangover cure. Eggs, ketchup, green peppers, a little salt, and voila."

"I think I'm gonna vomit."

"Don't knock it til you try it," Mike said cheerfully as he spooned the eggs onto two plates and started frying bacon.

"Where did you even get all that food?" Harvey rarely kept his apartment stocked with anything more than alcohol, olives, and pretzels.

"We went grocery shopping last night, remember?" Mike asked as he flipped the bacon over.

"Excuse me?"

"You know, that thing that normal human beings typically do once a week in order to provide themselves with basic nourishment?"

"That's what takeout is for." Harvey shook his head. "Why the hell did we go grocery shopping _together?"_

Mike looked hurt. "It wasn't _that _bad! We got stoned and really hungry so Ray drove us to Food Emporium and we bought a shitload of snacks." He peered thoughtfully at the plate of eggs and bacon, turned to rummage through Harvey's pantries, and pulled out a fresh loaf of bread.

"I got _stoned _with you?" Harvey asked, feeling as if he was a main character in _The Hangover._

"Yup," Mike said as he expertly cut two thick slices of sourdough bread and added them to the pile of food. Harvey slowly grabbed the handles of the coffee mugs he'd filled, hardly noticing he was holding two of them.

"Wait a second. How come I don't remember any of this?" Harvey asked suspiciously.

Mike shrugged as he shoveled in a heap of eggs and bacon. "'Cause you're getting old?" he asked with his mouth full.

"Shut up," the older man snapped as he leaned back and took a sip of his coffee. Shit. How had he gotten to his point in his life, where he apparently got stoned and went grocery shopping with his overly happy associate who cooked him breakfast?

"And you're the one telling me to get my shit together," Mike observed cheerfully. "Good coffee, by the way." He munched on a piece of toast, slathering it with butter and jam.

"So then why aren't you hungover at all?" Harvey questioned.

"Grammy's hangover cure. Try it, I swear it really works." Mike pushed a plate over to Harvey, who reluctantly took a bite. "Atta boy."

"Not bad," Harvey admitted, chewing. He pointed his fork at Mike. "But you're going to tell me everything that happened last night in full detail, then you're getting out of my place."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a really bad host?" Mike lamented as he wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed back his chair to clear the plates.

"You're an uninvited guest," Harvey shot back.

"Someone had to take care of you," Mike said in return.

"FOR THE LAST TIME, WHAT HAPPENED? And I don't need 'taking care of.'"

"Someone's grumpy," Mike said. "I beg to differ. Twelve hours ago, I doubt you could tell your ass from this lamp. Have some more eggs."

"I don't want eggs, I want answers! Need I remind you that I'm your _boss_?"

"Okay, fine," Mike said, his blue eyes widening. He sat down on the couch. "I'll start from the beginning."

* * *

"No," Harvey said stubbornly.

"I'm telling you, that's what happened!"

"I most certainly did not willingly dance to "Thrift Shop" in the middle of some random Williamsburg bar. I don't _do _the boroughs, let alone hip-hop."

"Yes, you did," Mike insisted. "You were actually pretty good. I'm impressed. You had, like, _swag."_

"Don't use that word."

"It's a compliment!"

"Not to me," Harvey moaned, sinking back onto the couch.

"That's not it," Mike said. "There's more."

* * *

"I don't believe you anymore. You're full of shit. You're practically brimming with the stuff."

"Harvey, you asked me what happened and I told you!"

"You're lying!"

Mike clasped his hands together and closed his eyes for a moment. "I solemnly swear on the can-opener that you were offered a job as a male stripper."

Harvey stared at him.

Mike continued, "They got firemen, they got policemen, they got army guys, but hey, they ain't got a lawyer." He paused. "Until now."

"UNTIL NOW?!" Harvey roared. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Thus far. As yet. Up until now," Mike reeled off. He jerked his thumb to the yellow Rosetta Stone package Harvey had bought when he thought he was going to become fluent in Italian and gave up after three weeks. "Should I get you the English version?"

"I swear to God, Mike Ross, whatever stunt you're trying to pull-" Harvey shouted, looking around for the nearest sharp object to stab his associate with.

"I have proof." Mike slowly turned around and reached into his messenger bag. He pulled out a photo. "Little souvenir of last night. Look, there's me, and that's you."

Harvey took it and examined it. "I'm burning this thing to ashes."

"Wait, no, Harvey! That's the only picture of us together! Harvey? HARVEY?!"

* * *

**So this was kind of a weird chapter, but I had fun writing it. Let me know what you guys think!**


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